


home again

by chidorinnn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s04e01 Code of Honor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25350454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chidorinnn/pseuds/chidorinnn
Summary: Yet again, Keith fails to show up in time. The team waits, ready to confront him for his diminishing commitment to Voltron in favor of his newfound duties among the Blade of Marmora.Then Coran patches through a call from Kolivan."Keith is in urgent need of medical attention. Our estimated time of arrival is in three dobashes."
Relationships: Allura & Keith (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Voltron: Legendary Defender Team
Comments: 10
Kudos: 181





	home again

**Author's Note:**

> So: this is the end result of a week's worth of false starts to writing a whump fic (ultimately understated in the final product) and a lot of spite about season 4. Mostly, I'm just annoyed at how the first episode of the season could have been such a fascinating discussion on the nature of war, and what it means to effectively end an era of imperialism and heal from it. And then we got these interesting shots of Keith risking his life and nearly dying on these incredibly dangerous missions, juxtaposed with the rest of Team Voltron's parades and publicity stunts!
> 
> But noooooooo we got an excess of salt directed at Keith in the end, and an abrupt group hug with minimal discussion >:(

When the battle is over, Allura lands the Blue Lion in the Castle's hangars, and slumps into her seat with a weary sigh. They've made it, somehow, but not in a way that anyone had anticipated.

Keith is still not back, and it's that thought alone that sparks irritation above all, amidst the elation that Shiro has finally reconnected with the Black Lion.

They don't talk about it — not yet. They debrief, congratulate Shiro on his victory, discuss what they could have done differently. No one mentions that it was Keith abandoning them to this, that made it possible and even necessary for Black to welcome Shiro back, a symptom of his rapidly diminishing commitment to the team in light of his newfound duties as an agent of the Blade of Marmora — but the irritation is there, even if no one will voice it aloud. There will be _words_ , when Keith does eventually show up.

Then Coran patches through a call from Kolivan. Kolivan, she's come to learn, has long made an art out of masking his emotions, but there's an obvious and discernible pinch to his expression, as his face appears on the screen. "Paladins of Voltron," he greets them, his voice oddly stilted. "I apologize for the short notice, but requesting permission to board immediately."

Something is wrong — something had to have happened, for it to be Kolivan contacting them at this time, and not Keith.

"Yes, of course," Shiro answers. "What do you need from us, to prepare for your arrival?"

"Medical equipment, as soon as you are able," says Kolivan — which means that someone has been hurt, and badly enough that taking the time to go back to the Blade of Marmora's base would spell disaster for that person — and there is only one person for whom Kolivan would think to contact the Castle first, before anyone else.

Time slows, as the reality of it sinks in for everyone else on the team. Shiro's face goes oddly pale. Hunk's shoulders begin to shake, as he covers his mouth with one hand. Lance's gaze darts to each of them, and then to Kolivan, at a loss for words. Pidge shoves her way to the front, her hand slamming down on the control panel as she all but shouts: "Wait a minute! Kolivan, is Keith...?"

And then, the coup de grâce: "Keith is in urgent need of medical attention," Kolivan confirms. "Our estimated time of arrival is in three dobashes."

* * *

Objectively, Allura is aware that the Blade of Marmora's work is dangerous. Not necessarily more or less so than it is to be a Paladin of Voltron, but fundamentally different in all the ways that the average agent will not have the most powerful weapon in the universe on their side.

She's aware of it, but it rattles her now, that she never truly _knew_ it. There was always going to be a risk, with Keith attending to these missions — and how short-sighted of her it was, to quantify that risk only in the ways that Keith had fallen short of the team's expectations for a leader of Voltron.

The Blades' ship lands, and Kolivan emerges from it with Keith cradled far too delicately in his arms. Keith's eyes are squeezed tightly shut as he curls into Kolivan, tiny, pained gasps escaping him despite his obvious efforts to contain them. There's a large bruise blooming at his temple, a tear in his suit revealing a deep gash that continues to bleed through whatever attempts have been made to bandage it.

Coran speaks to Kolivan in hushed whispers as they head to the infirmary. No one dares to utter a word, but it affects them, clearly, when stripping away Keith's Blade armor reveals a mess of bruises and cuts all over his body, some but not all of them scabbed over and many of them bleeding sluggishly. Lance's hand falls against one, accidentally, and the way Keith cries out at that is something that will haunt Allura's nightmares for movements to come.

Lance backs away then, his eyes never leaving Keith even as he makes sure his hands stay far away. Hunk is crying, and has to stop every so often to rub at his eyes. It's Shiro and Pidge that are the most helpful in this moment — Pidge, whose face remains impassive and clinical as she gently maneuvers him into a cryo suit; Shiro, who never loses that pained look to his expression as he holds him in place gently, but purposefully enough that it's obvious that it will take a great deal of force to pry him away from Keith now.

They get him into the pod, and Allura scans through its readings. The concussion, internal bleeding, and some of the lacerations are recent; the cracked ribs, sprained wrist, and low-grade fever are not. His current condition is entire movements in the making — the logical end result to countless back-to-back missions with little time to rest in between and few opportunities to seek proper medical attention.

"Well the good news is, he should be out in about six vargas," says Coran with forced cheer. "You're welcome to stay until then, Kolivan!"

"I must decline," says Kolivan, evenly. "I'm needed back at the base for the time being. Please contact me as soon as you are able, when he awakens."

"Yes, of course!" says Coran. "We'll be in touch!"

When Kolivan leaves, a heavy silence settles over them all. No one dares to leave the infirmary, even though they're all exhausted from the last battle — somehow, it feels wrong to even think about doing so.

* * *

There was a moment, once, caught between one mission and the next: some rare time off to decompress and relax. Allura had expected to find Keith at the training deck, then; she found him, instead, asleep on the couch in the common area. He lay slumped to the side with his elbow on the armrest and his face in his hand — his brow furrowed and his shoulders rigid with tension.

The moment splintered apart when she moved too suddenly, too loudly, and he jerked awake in response. As he blinked heavily up at her, it became obvious just how badly he needed this moment of rest — in the dark, almost bruise-like circles collecting under his eyes and the bone-white pallor of his face. He'd been late, coming back to the Castle after his last mission with the Blades; they all had properly chastised him for it, and he'd offered a short apology that would have been acceptable back then, but seems awfully trite in hindsight when comparing it to all the other times he had failed to properly be there for the team.

"Princess...?" he mumbled groggily. "D'you need something?"

She shook her head, exhaling slowly. "No," she answered, then. "Carry on." And he didn't go back to sleep, after that — he went to the training deck, where she'd expected him to be, and had come to dinner, later, looking even more exhausted.

Looking back on it now, there's so much that she failed to notice back then: the simple act of falling asleep in the common area had been so out of character for him, a clear symptom of the physical toll the many, many missions took on him, as he continued to split his attention between Voltron and the Blade of Marmora. The evidence of it is still there, untouched by the cryopod — he's even paler now, and those bruises under his eyes are darker.

Had he been hurt then, she wonders? How many times had he hidden an injury from a mission with the Blades, because it ran counter to his role as Voltron's leader? How much sleep did he lose, when two separate factions demanded his attention and it became impossible for him to fully satisfy both at once? For how long had his health been deteriorating under the weight of it all, while nobody noticed or even cared to look? How bad would things have to be, for him to ask for help or even just a little understanding?

A fellow Blade had _died_ , presumably right in front of him, and all anyone had to say about it was that he had failed to show up in time for... for a _publicity stunt_. What if it had been Keith that had died, then? How long would they have continued criticizing him like that, ranting about his lack of punctuality, before they were made aware that he wasn't coming back?

... she doesn't need to imagine it. It's happening here, right now. It's _lucky_ , that Keith hadn't been alone when he was hurt so badly — that Kolivan had been there to drag him to safety, get him the medical treatment he needed.

Still: Keith was _dying_ , and all the team had been able to focus on, before Kolivan had hailed them, was how he'd disappointed them yet again.

"You know..." says Coran, slowly. "Kolivan mentioned something rather troubling. Apparently, Keith begged him not to contact us... said that he had no right to face us, after he'd messed up so badly."

Which means three things: one, that Keith had indeed received the distress signal, likely right in the middle of his mission with the Blades; two, that Keith saw it as a personal failure, that getting so badly hurt on that mission prevented him from making it back here in time, ready to serve.

And the most disturbing of all: that Keith had very nearly died out there, alone, believing that he had no right to come _home_.

"That's messed up," says Hunk, his voice thick with tears. "That's so messed up."

"Where the heck would he get an idea like _that_?" Lance asks.

"Gee, I don't know," answers Pidge, dryly. "Maybe the last time he almost died on a mission with the Blades and we chewed him for something completely different as soon as he got back?"

"When _was_ the last time that happened anyway?" Shiro asks.

And the thing is: they don't know. They don't know because they never bothered to ask what exactly he did on those missions.

The worst part is that it's not a matter of _if_ something like this has happened before; it's _when_. It's likely happened multiple times before, and not once did any of them think to _ask_.

They can talk in circles about this for vargas, but the pod will have to open eventually — and when it does, Keith stumbles out, shivering as he crumples into Shiro's outstretched arms. If anyone else notices how Shiro holds onto him for longer than necessary, then nobody comments on it.

"Sorry," Keith rasps, bracing himself against Shiro to stand. "There was the—the distress signal, and I—I—"

Shiro pulls him back into a hug. "Oh, Keith... you have _nothing_ to apologize for."

Perhaps, at another time, this would be when the others start piling on into a group hug — a heartwarming moment, a high note upon which this nightmare will finally end.

—but as Keith closes his eyes and lets his forehead fall into Shiro's collarbone, one thing remains clear amidst the bone-white pallor of his skin and the dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes: this nightmare is far from over.

* * *

The next day is easier. Keith sleeps in; it's unclear whether he does so by choice, but his body sorely needs it regardless. Hunk ropes Lance and Pidge into helping him cook as many of Keith's favorite things as the three of them can think of.

Shiro sits with her, the silence weighing heavy between them as neither of them has the words to start.

It's easier to think, now that Keith's life is no longer in immediate danger and they've had time to calm down. The facts are these:

  1. Keith had very nearly died, on his last mission with the Blade of Marmora.

  2. This is, in all likelihood, not the first time he's nearly died on such a mission.

  3. Nearly every time he's come back late from such a mission, one or all of them understood it as a deliberate rejection of his role in leading Voltron.

  4. Clearly, Keith didn't feel comfortable coming back to the Castle in such a state, if he went so far as to beg Kolivan to not contact them.

  5. The team had done _nothing_ to make him feel comfortable enough to come to them with something like this; all they had ever done, since he started going on these missions, was criticize him for his choice.

  6. They'd been criticizing him for far longer than that — in hindsight, for far too many things that were either out of his control entirely or colored by grief while Shiro was missing.




"I think," Allura says, finally, "we've missed something crucial here."

Shiro inhales deeply. "Yeah," he says. "Agreed."

"Does he really think so little of us?" she asks. "That the thought of coming to us when he's hurt would bring him more pain than the physical injury itself?"

"That's... part of the problem, I think," says Shiro. "There's something we're not seeing, on his end. It'd be easy to say that he needs to communicate it better, but it's not like any of us have ever tried to _listen_."

There's something odd about the way he says it. Shiro would have tried, prior to the battle with Zarkon. He would have known what was wrong, and brought it to the team's attention long before it could get this bad. How poorly off must he be, if even he's missed something like that?

Shiro groans, and presses his palm against his temple. "Why didn't I talk to him about this? He was pulling away — we all saw it — so why didn't I do anything to stop it?"

"There was so much going on," Allura tells him. "You can't expect to be present for everything at once. That's not reasonable."

"And yet," says Shiro, gravely, "that's exactly what we expected Keith to do. Or at least... that's how we made it sound to him." He sighs, and rubs his eyes. "He's been looking so run down for _weeks_. How did we not notice this?"

—and the conversation circles right back to where it started. It's unproductive and masturbatory, giving them the space to self-flagellate while doing nothing for Keith.

"We need to talk to him," says Allura. "This can't happen again."

"Yeah..." says Shiro. "Agreed."

* * *

For the first time in a long while, Allura pays careful attention to Keith. There's no suspicion or malice behind it, this time — and not for the first time, there's guilt for the way she reacted immediately after his Galra heritage became evident.

She watches as he emerges from his room well into the day cycle, looking just as exhausted as he'd been when he was first placed in the pod. She watches as Hunk immediately pulls him into a hug, and doesn't let go of his hand as he brings him over to the dining table. She watches as Lance sits with him, talking about everything and nothing but never provoking him or prodding at him like he might have some quintants ago. She watches as Pidge sets up a tablet before him, letting him debrief with Kolivan without having to physically go to another room to do so.

And all the while, Keith moves awkwardly, stiffly. There are moments where he stares after them for a few ticks too long, something wistful in his expression that betrays just how out of character this is for everyone involved.

There's a lapse where Keith is left alone at the table, with none of the other Paladins sitting with him, and Allura takes that as her cue to join him. He smiles wearily at her as she slides into the seat next to him. "How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Tired," he answers. His voice is oddly low, and there's a rasp to it that has yet to fade. "I'm okay, though."

He's still several shades too pale, and the extra rest hasn't touched the dark circles under his eyes; Allura wisely chooses not to comment on it. "I'm glad you're okay," she says. "We were all worried."

"Yeah..." he says. "Hey, um... I'm... really sorry, about yesterday. I got the distress call, and—and I was gonna come over here as soon as the mission was over, but then—but then I—"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she replies smoothly.

"You know, everyone's been saying that," he says. "Everyone's being... really nice to me, for some reason. Even though I screwed up. It's weird."

"But you didn't screw up."

"I _did_." There's something raw about his voice — something wild and unrestrained, that he needs to take a moment to rein in. "You needed me here, and I didn't show up. I let the team down, and it's great that Shiro was finally able to connect with Black, but he still had to pick up the slack for me. I _failed_."

"But you _didn't_." Allura pauses, and carefully considers her words. "A movement ago, I would have agreed with you... but I was wrong, and I'm sorry that it took a near-death experience for me to see it."

He gives her a strange look, then. "I don't get it," he says. "I screwed up, didn't I? I couldn't be the leader you guys wanted, and then I couldn't do this and the missions with the Blades without letting something slide..."

"I'm saying," she says, "that we should have never placed those expectations on you in the first place. You were going through a difficult time... it was unfair of us, to put that sort of pressure on you, and then criticize you when your attempts at fixing the hole in this team were not perfect." She closes her eyes, and inhales deeply. "It was unfair of us to push you away, and then blame you for the distance between us."

Keith frowns, but something about him eases. "I still don't get it."

She sighs. "I'm not articulating this correctly. Either way..."

Shiro emerges from the kitchen then, carrying a plate of food. Keith looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry to interrupt," he says. "Go ahead and finish what you were going to say, Princess."

Allura nods. Bless him, for coming at just the right moment to salvage this conversation before it can fall into pieces. "Either way, it really shouldn't have taken you getting so badly hurt, for me to realize that there is something seriously wrong about the way we've been approaching all of this."

Shiro takes this moment to slide into the seat on Keith's other side. There's something deliberately careful about the way he does it — every move carefully telegraphed, so that Keith has the time to react as he pleases. "The thing is," he says, "we haven't done the best job of looking after you, when you're fighting for both Voltron _and_ the Blade of Marmora."

"But that's _my_ job," says Keith. "You wanted me to be the leader, so I should've done better."

"But how could you have possibly done any better than this, when none of us realized that you were fighting two different wars at once?" asks Shiro.

Allura can't help but smile at that. _Ah, he put it into words._

"Here, we've been trying to build a foundation for what the universe should look like after the war," Shiro explains. "That's not something we can just put off for later. We've gained a lot of allies, but they all have very different ideas of what peace will look like after the war. Not only that, but a lot of them want _justice_. If we ignore that, then we risk infighting after we deal with the empire. That means more wars, after this one."

"I get that, but the empire is _still here_ ," Keith interjects. "There's still a lot of work that needs to be done, and the Blade is doing it. We're the most powerful weapon in the universe — what right do we have to sit here doing parades and publicity stunts while Lotor's off doing who knows what?"

"But you're just one person," says Allura. "You can't possibly do both at once."

"Then what do you people _want_ from me?"

Something within her fractures, at that. There's hurt there — too much for it to be the result of just this conversation. The way Keith clamps his mouth shut and bows his head is evidence that she and Shiro weren't meant to hear that outburst.

Shiro shifts, deliberately slowly, so that he's sitting a bit closer to Keith without quite touching him. "Can I be selfish?" he starts. "What I want is for you to be _safe_. I get that that's not always possible when we're fighting a war, but at the very least, I want you to be okay after all of this is over. And if you need to fight, then I'd want to be there so I can watch your back."

"Too much has already been lost to this war," says Allura. "At the very least, I would like to preserve what little we have left. And... I realize that I haven't always done the best job of expressing this, but I care about you, Keith. When Kolivan brought you here, knowing that you wouldn't survive if he took the extra time to travel back to the Blade of Marmora's base..." Oh, she's losing control. There's pressure blooming in her temples, behind her eyes. "I don't ever want to see you like that again. Understand?"

Keith's eyes are red, when he looks up at her — there's moisture collecting there, made more obvious by the way he blinks too often to force it back. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean... This wasn't supposed to..."

He lets his hands fall on the table. Without thinking, Allura takes the one closest to her into both her hands. "If I may be selfish for a moment," she says, "I'd want you to stay here, always. Not because we need you as a Paladin and a leader. I'd want you to _want_ to stay here, and not feel like you need to leave when you're no longer useful."

Shiro exhales slowly, and wraps an arm around Keith's shoulders. "Yeah," he says, quietly. "Me too."

Keith averts his eyes downward. "I want to stay..." he says, slowly, "... but I'm needed over there, too."

"Then we'll be here," says Allura.

"And you'll always have a home here, with us," says Shiro. "No matter what."

The smile that breaks out on Keith's face, then, warms something inside her — and somehow, she knows that he'll be okay, after this.


End file.
